The sacrifice
by Zana An
Summary: Deep in the history and forgotten prior the events of Guildwars 2 we are all born, and we all have our own tales. Some sad, others with greater accomplishments. This is a tale of a young woman born of poverty, and moved to riches, but never was there much salvation in any. This is Linea's story and one that will leave you with long after thoughts as many have already stated.


I do write very dark fiction. So it's not all happy endings ^_^ Here's the shorty I promised. It's been a long while since I've submitted anything and I'm sorry for delays and such. I do not write lemon, and this although rated M does have strong adult themes but in context to situation and not a thrill. If you wish to read something which has value then you have found it, if it is simplicity or erotic you desire then turn away now. For those that remain I welcome you to my humble offering and let us begin our tale with a means in which it will leave you with thoughts and more.

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**The Sacrifice**

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This story takes place deep down amongst the roots of Tyrian history, so deeply buried and entangled that many of its pieces have been lost to the enemy that is time, and the truth fragmented along the way, littered as mere breadcrumbs into the hidden past.

~A Maiden Of Bondage~

Growing up it could be said that I never had given into the joys which others during their childhood would have, it was lost to the long days of tending the crops for the baron. Our villages that ran around Kryta. It was also the home of an indigenous berry called the "Hon'yaku." So far as can be explained, from what I've overheard from others, this berry provided all who ate it the understanding of all the languages of man and beast. All the villagers, at birth, would suckle from the mother's teat, which was stained with said berry juices. Hence, all people in the village had the gift... but also the curse of tending to it.

I can't say that I didn't have physical flaws which I loathed. My hair, a fairer shade than the dark ebony of the villagers, brought forth much speculation and isolation, limiting my childhood joys further. The long, ghostly white strands could be described as the unblemished Wynist flower, one whose petals were long and curled toward the stem. A few months after my birth, as my hair grew whiter instead of dark, even my mother who had been sceptical of killing me grew weary of being called the maker of abominations. The hideous slander had been utilized to such an extent that their words had given a way to instil a hatred for me, her only child. My mother left my father and I, disowning me with the claims of being the vile tainted seed of a drunkard and touched by the hand of Lich. I don't believe this to be a great loss, for how can I miss someone I never really knew?

New babes who were born with features out of the ordinary or having some form of physical disadvantage were branded the likes of demon children. These unfortunates were commonly left out in the wild for some form of carnivorous monster to take them away. With my case it was clear I differed too greatly with appearance of hair and the light hues of misty grey pupils. They were too afraid to kill me or offer me to some beast, or so I thought. Their beliefs were stemmed to that of the abomination, Lich. "If I had been touched by his hand then retribution would swiftly follow." they told themselves, "The act of killing her may evoke the wrath of Lich himself!" The idea of their lives being fraught with horrors that only nightmares and shadows can bring, they let me live. But being spared had not been a gift of life; it came with the price of being the castaway, the village scapegoat. Whenever misfortune happened, from a stubbed toe to a missing sheep, the whispers would grow louder, of Linnéa, the spawn of Lich, being to blame.

I would've said I'd been unhappy all the time if it weren't for my loyal Asura, whom I lovingly named Shai, a benevolent creature that made me feel worth my weight in gold. Those moments were when the unhappy fractions of black and white life bloomed into full colour. He was the one who spoke to me in the short interludes of time between my home chores and diligently worked days out in the field of the barons plantation. He made an outcast like me feel blessed and I cherished those moments like rain at the end of a drought.

In return, how could I not please him? My only small joys apart from my Shai was playing my harp, an old thing someone had thrown out and I'd seen fit to claim, and singing for him. I would dance for him as he enjoyed the small pieces of entertainment I bestowed upon him, for he was also alone when I was not there. Dancing made me feel lighter in heart and mind while singing eased my burdens. Playing music for him, watching him clap and dance with me, helped make the rest of the day vanish.

My father was always home by the time I got there... but that was only because he never left. The putrid stench of the water he drank, fermented by some grain or other plant, always lingered amongst his whiskers. It drained him even as he tried to drown himself, never was a cup too far from his hand. Talking to him or being around while he had lost himself to the violent euphoria often left me with bruises. I'd learned to keep myself away at these times, bolted behind my door.

I earned enough for the three of us, though father wasted the majority of it on that disgusting water. I had learned to hide enough for food, otherwise he would have left Shai and I with naught, claiming my Asuran friend could fend for itself and I deserved nothing (though I was the only one earning money). Shai undertook all the homely errands from the cleaning to cooking. He more than earned his way around the household. Even when my days in the field seemed like the longest of my life, it was cheering to know that my friend would be home waiting for me. On some of the worst days, my little Shai would touch me laying soft pats along my hand, calming me, listening to me, so I wouldn't have the same discussions with my father who would have returned my grievances with his fists. Shai nurtured me, administering medicinal herbs to the blisters on my toes and the aches along my back from the long hours tending to the berries that Baron Harold sold, the only form of work for someone like me other than the oldest profession in the trade.

The latter thought disgusted me.

Despite my oddity, I knew that I had other girls and women who envied me. Why, I do not fully understand. My looks they found so fine were the result of working the fields and lack of meals, but their jealously just made them blind to that, I guess. Words were sharpest from the women, claiming I had come to their husband or lover in a dream, and had tried to woo them away. If such a thing happened, it was the males' own lust that put me in their dreams, not mine, but the women didn't seem to care for that fact.

My seventeenth cycle of life, that's when the start of my real troubles began, when one so rich as Harold came to the hovel of my father. He was dressed so finely that the clothing I wore was but scraps in comparison, our home a clod of dirt kicked up from a centaur's hoof. Coward that I was, I didn't wish to stand before this man. The gaze he gave me was one that lingered and made me feel unclean. I left with Shai to get something for supper, leaving him alone with my father.

Fool that I was.

When I returned, I learned of my "good fortune," that the Baron had offered for my hand and my father had accepted unquestionably. After all, the hundred coin dowry that the Baron provided for my hand was surely enough to keep him stocked in that vile water. My protests, and even the earnest ones of my Shai, fell on deaf ears. When Harold took my hand, Shai had moved to attack, to protect, only to be kicked away for his troubles.

My poor Shai...

The tears on my cheeks were not new, having always worried over him. Had he stayed with my father, had he found another home? Or had he returned to the wild, having seen the worst of mankind? When a man far older than my father took me, prevented me from rushing to "that filthy thing's" aid so that he might lay his hand upon my belly and pull me tight against his body, whispering how if I wanted to care for something so badly he'd be more than happy to give me a babe.

He pulled me away with a strength I couldn't break. We were wed in the shadow of the night with none but the priest in attendance. My mute responses to the priest's questions were answered by the Baron's gold, my name forged on the wedding papers to legalize his claim. From there, I was taken to his home, elegant on the outside but dark within. I wasn't a bride but a slave that had been bartered for. It made me cringe to know this man was three times my senior. I was nothing more than show piece for my new master, not the dignified wife. I had not been willing to submit to him but a tea brewed to "calm my nerves" ended up befuddling them instead. The aromatic drugs kept me from struggling or offering resistance to his advancements that night. The drugs didn't work to wipe my memories which felt worse than what he had done to me physically.

...I didn't wake till the next day on red stained bed sheets, wet with my innocence and his taint. I didn't want it to happen but much of what followed wasn't in accordance to my wishes.

Time took its toll and I'd started to become accustomed to him, I thought maybe, with time, I could love him...but no such emotions rose from me. He grew desperate for the offspring he wanted to carry his name, making the setting of the sun a fear that resided in me with the knowledge of what would come. It was less than a month later when the village midwife gave my husband news which would seal my fate.

I was inadequate to bare him children.

Learning of this he demanded that we divorce, but this time his gold wasn't enough to silence the new priest, clearly a man of far nobler stock than his predecessor. Until I placed ink to paper before his eyes, the divorce would not take place. Harold steadily grew further angered, demanding this from me, pushing me for it. I had done nothing but cook, clean, and tend to his homely chores faithfully, even coming to tolerate his nightly assault on my body. I might not be as happy as I'd dreamed, but I didn't have to work the fields and food was never an issue now. Besides, if he divorced me, the words of the villagers would grow even sharper. Any claims that might have been made, overlooking my hair and supposed heritage, would be gone. None would want the ex-wife of the Baron, either looking on me as "used goods" or "unfit as a wife."

Harold couldn't stand the sight of me and soon after he denounced his love for me and I no longer had a place by his bedside. It mattered not to me for his touch made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, as if there were spiders crawling over my body. A new quarter had been assigned, deemed more fitting of my standing. The quarters of a servant, which still were better than that of my earlier home and far more tolerable than my husband's bed, I had no objection. After all, my husband still took care of my bare necessities which was more than my father had ever done.

I went about my tasks with the same dedication I had always had, ensuring his needs 'outside the bedroom' were taken care of. I may never love him but Dwayna watches all and I intended to fulfill my role as a good wife. When twilight came, I would retire to my place of rest where I would dance and sing, imagining that my dearest friend Shai was there in front of me.

Harold, in a moment of insanity, took the liberty upon himself to find a way he could dispose of me, so he might remarry a woman who could bear children. I entered my home after an errand he'd sent me on to find Harold with angered villagers and household servants. I heard the words 'witch' and other more vulgar insults being thrown around. He had swayed the villagers, with the aid of his servants, using the singing and dancing I did each night as a sign of witchcraft, my voice "haunting as I wailed to my dark lord and master." However, Harold did too well a job, I'm afraid. His speech was too persuasive and empowered. Rather than a simple divorce to be rid of me, the villagers had rallied for my execution.

Dragged kicking and screaming a few miles out from the village and I ended up where I am now, deep within Majesty's Rest. I had been left and abandoned to whatever wild monster may lay claim to me for its evening meal.

A turn of misfortune had placed me in this situation, though I had foreseen its arrival. Perhaps not as such, with my body tied against a criss-cross of lumber, my wrists bound and above my head, tethered to a metal ring. Certainly having my sleeve torn off with half my blouse, and leaving me exposed so that they might use the material to bind my legs apart and tie them to the wood, had not been in my thoughts. I had hoped they might leave me my modesty, but not even that was seen fit for a "worshipper of the dark one," it seemed.

Had my darling Shai known this was to be my fate, when the Baron came to claim me for himself?

The river before me, marked only by speckles of the crescent moon, a dull sheen like the tainted silver of Harold's home, reminded me of the times we'd walk to the spring to gather water.

Lifting my head, I pulled gingerly at my hands, trying to see if it might be loosen enough to let me slip free. From the way the fibres dug into my hands, unless I was willing to chew off my arms with my teeth, I wouldn't be getting free.

With a slow shake of my head, I tried to adjust myself, finding my back overly stiff from being propped in this unnatural position. It wouldn't make a difference, I knew, but why spend my last few moments in life suffering unduly?

I tried not to think of it, not now when surely there were other things to be thinking. Like the rustling I heard to my left, growing steadily louder as the night sounds dwindled to silence. Despite my resolve to be thankful I had not to spend another day with Harold, I could still feel my heart fluttering like a Moa bird upon being caged. The soft hissing made my body grow stiff as bone, a head emerging from the bushes.

And another... And another.

The three heads looked to be similar, perhaps two of the same species and one of the evolved? They looked to be blue, though the lighting was dim enough I could have been mistaken, with black feathers or fur that ran down their necks. Red spikes jutted forward on the two similar heads where as the third had them slicked back. The eyes of the same heads were dark, as if the night itself was held within them. The different heads had similar eyes, but within the night their pupils. However the central head differed, its eyes.

Those eyes...

They sent shivers upon my frail body. Appearing as horrific glowing orbs, as red as one of Harold's cherished rubies, staring directly at me, unmistakably an elder dragons brood of some form, maybe even a champion, the how didn't matter. It was definitely was a dragon.

"So..." the ruby-eyed head whispered, across the way. A sensation like frost ran feverishly along my skin. It's voice heavy and powerful enough to vibrate the air around me. "You are to be the sacrifice?" His tongue ran along his lips, as if already contemplating how good I would tasted.

"Does the meat have a name with which I can address it? I would like to know before we start." He terrified me.

"We?" I couldn't help but quip, though I thought of self-preservation just after the words popped out. "You mean you're not going to fight for it?" Somehow I had the stupid notion that 'it' being a beast with three heads would all fight over me. How childish and premature those desperate thoughts seemed.

The middle head jerked back before giving a startled laugh. As answer to my question, he moved forward...

THEY moved forward.

A three-headed beast, not three beasts, with wings jutting out of his back like six huge bat wings. The same blue on the heads made up most of the colouring along their body, two streaks of the red running along their belly, merging into one streak along the bottom of their tail. As they moved closer, the two smaller heads swayed, leaning towards me and snapping before a jerk from the third brought them back into place. For the intelligence of the central head, it seemed the other two were far more feral minded.

"Your name?" he asked again, lifting his head and tilting it to look down at me. The creature dwarfed me, as it's shadow eclipsed me from the moonlight. With the anticipation of demise looming, literally, over me, I could only indulge him with soft spoken words once my lips stopped quivering.

"Linnéa." I swallowed, coughing as I swallowed wrong. Taking in a breath, I coughed again before repeating a little more boldly. "My name is Linnéa."

"And your crime, Linnéa?" The two heads looked up at the middle one, hissing in ways even with the aid of the berry I couldn't understand. His lips curled and the two settled, lowering like children who'd been denied a sweet.

"My crime?" The bitterness was like bile in my throat. "None. But you'll kill me regardless, so it matters naught."

"The latter may be true," the creature agreed amiably. "And I may even use several of your delectable finger bones as toothpicks." His head leaned forward, his breath washing over me. It was probably ill timed of me, but I could only think how odd it was that his breath still smelled sweeter than Harold's.

"But, were I you," his tail tip flicked. "I might endear to answer; for I can prolong your death by eating you slowly while you scream or snap your neck and giving you mercy as we feed."

His nostrils flared, his tongue reaching out to brush my cheek.

"Which is it to be?"

Closing my eyes, I tried to answer with a steady voice.

"If you must know, my only sin was being unable to conceive a child." He pulled back slightly, giving a huff of disbelief.

"It's true!" My anger empowered me, forcing me to open my eyes and causing me to pull against my restraints.

"The herbal doctor confirmed it!" Shaking, I almost spat. "He said I didn't have the capacity to be a mother, and would never have children!"

"Ahh, and his words angered you?"

"Not so much me..." An ache similar to my longing for Shai echoed from within me at the thought of never having children. "But the Baron..." I closed my eyes and lowered my head, still unable to fathom how easily he could discard me after taking everything I had.

"The Baron?" the creature prompted, a light pressure along my face making me open my eyes again, suddenly fearful I might feel the sharp sting of his teeth. Instead, his head rested along my shoulders, his eyes fixed on mine, as if actually curious about my words.

"My..." It almost hurt to say. "Husband."

"Humans... such pitiful creatures, to turn not only on their own but their mates." Abruptly, his head turned to look closer at me. "Did you love him?"

"No." The word came out abruptly, mixed with the sorrow of a future I'd never have because of him and the lingering regret I still fostered. As if there was something I could have done otherwise to have gained favour from him.

"Why choose him as a mate, if there was no emotional value?"

The centre head remained on my shoulder, his question whispering in my ear, making my heart jump as I kept wondering 'when?'

"Was he a good provider?" I swallowed, watching as his tongue slithered from his jaws and ran along his jagged teeth. It was longer than seemed natural, making my skin tremble as I felt him lap from my collarbone up along my neck, the texture bumpy and unfamiliar. I could say it was rough, in the way that sand is or could be, but it wasn't painful. As it retreated back to his mouth, he continued.

"Your taste is so delicious..." His twin heads hissed, leaning in closer, brushing against my sides. I tried to pull away but there was nowhere to go.

"I could bite into you so easily if you don't answer." One of the heads opened its mouth wider but he gave it a warning hiss and closed quickly after. Glancing at me, he gave what could be called a smug smile.

"I wish to know the value of the sacrifice being made." I didn't understand the game he was playing, forcing me to answer him, but there was no harm in doing so... I was already dead, so far as everyone was concerned.

"I never loved him or chose him. My father sold me to him, more interested in coin than..." Heat crept into my throat, making me turn my head up and away, trying not to cry any more over something so pitiful.

I felt something brush along my knee, presumably one of his other two heads as the middle one still rested on my shoulder, breathing quietly against my skin. The sudden feeling of warmth made me jerk, realizing only after that it was licking behind my leg. As my legs were bound, I couldn't move away from it and it kept licking, its twin moving to take my big toe in its mouth, its teeth gentle for the moment.

"You'll start with my legs then?" I felt my belly turn to stone. "What of the kind kill you spoke to me of? Do you find my words to be lies?"

There was silence for a time before the middle head responded. "Your taste... is different." He pressed his nose closer to my neck, drawing in a breath before releasing it again. "Unlike the others... I seek to understand why."

I could feel the slithering touches of one of the lesser heads. While I tried to squirm away from it, the other head wrapped its tongue around my toe. I wanted to pull my foot away, feeling far more embarrassed by the motion than I should have been, considering he wanted to eat me, but I had nowhere to go. When he was done with my toe, he pulled back, running his tongue between the others in a long, slow sweep. His tongue was so long, he was able to weave it between all of them, wedging them apart with ease. Saliva dripped from the long tendril, running down my foot as he pulled it back into his mouth and then sent it slithering between my toes again. A low heat began to chip away at the stone within my belly but still I had to know...

"Are you trying to tease me to death?" I swallowed, uncertain. "Drawing this out, making me wonder when the final strike will come?"

His middle head looked at me, his red eyes gleaming before they closed and he gave a quiet sigh.

"I promise," he said finally. "If you relax now... I will let you know when your death will come. I wish to savor your taste, to enjoy my meal, and..." he continued, his tongue flicking out to touch my cheek, leaving a wet streak when he pulled it back.

"If you do so, I will grant you the swiftest passing I can."

I could feel the tongues of his first head working away, so long they felt like vile fat slugs, leaving a trail of thick slime behind them. The middle head said nothing for a moment, but the look he gave me was self-satisfied, as if he could taste the fear that ran amok. He flicked his tongue once more against my cheek before sliding his head along my shoulder and tracing the hollow of my throat. Slow it wrapped around my neck, forcing me to draw a shorter quicker breaths as I felt the bumps of his tongue against my skin. His tongue able to wrap around my entire throat, feeling like a noose that tightened enough to give me a sense of suffocation. My neck was soaked with his salivating tongue, I knew its purpose to make it easier to swallow chunks of my flesh once he begun to feed.

The lesser heads continued to soak me. I slowly gave into soft whimpers and tears. "Kill me now, why prolong my suffering? Have I not answered all you've asked?!"

"You surprise me, Linnéa..." He pressed his head against my chest, musing to himself. "You're the first meal I've had react in such a way... Most just beg for their lives, but you beg for your death."

The first head went back to licking, salivating what tatters remained of my dress, its tongue grazing me roughly,. The third head moved to place small bites along my right leg, not enough to tear but enough to leave a sting. "You're despicable."

"Such tastes... from a human..." the middle head whispered, a hint of doubt and wonder in its voice. He pulled his head away from my gown, moving his head to look me in the eyes.

"Your cheeks are flushed... maybe anger?" He sounded shocked. "How can you react so venom tongued? "

"I..." I trembled, feeling his first head pressing his tongue hard against my belly. "I can't help it." I practically began crying, my body tenser than a bowstring ready to snap.

"I usually bite here first," he confided, one of the lesser head's tongues grazing my sternum, lingering to emphasize his words.

"The blood there is best..." He meant the heart... His third head worked up along my right thigh, nipping at my hindquarters. "But for some reason, I find myself wanting to play with you just a little longer."

Was this a habit of this dragon? To play with his food?

"Strange..." I tried to open my eyes fully, to see the middle head, but it was blur. "You do not beg... at least, not for your life..."

I couldn't tell whether he was doing this out of curiosity or merely to lure me into a false sense of security before declaring it 'my time' and going for my heart, which is could easily bite out with it's powerful jaw. Maybe he was going to finish me now.

I couldn't have been more wrong.

I gagged as I felt the thickness of his tongue plunge constrict once more around my throat. In a brief moment of panic, I found that I couldn't breathe. Thrashing, he only pushed his body against mine, pressing so tightly that I couldn't move. My own drool ran down the sides of my mouth, having no escape otherwise. Meanwhile, the smaller twin heads wiggled their tongues continued their task of making me swallow-able. Even as I was struggling to breathe, my heart beat so hard it ached within my chest.

Just as I thought I was going to black out, the middle head pulled his tongue back, leaving me coughing, my cheeks wet with tears and drool.

"Your begging.." he breathed against my face. "Does nothing for me."

Head hung, I could only try to catch my breath before his tongue sloped under my chin and coiled around my throat, not once, but twice this time. My head lifted back as he squeezed, shocked as I felt my brain throb in response to his grip. Twin hisses came from the two lapping away still at me soft squeaks and sharp clicks as my body poured fear out in abundance. His tongue loosened around my throat, going back into the warm maw of the middle head.

"Your taste... however..." One side of his mouth curled into a smile that cut through my haze of pleasure.

"Take what you need... and make it swift, like you promised," I finally got out, small coughs accompanying the words.

"Forget what you've seen..." he whispered, a muffled cry coming from myself as the twin heads kept slurping from my pussy with their elongated tongues, that appeared like tentacles from the corner of my eyes.

"I'm not what you think I am..." I flinched away as his head came closer, resting again at my shoulder.

"Forget what you've known. They're just dreams... horrid dreams that will end soon..." He hissed against my skin and I felt his teeth prick against my neck.

"Silence your words... and enjoy your last few moments."

A mist of desire clouded my mind, as I stared within it's eyes, what was this power? This array of feelings... What was he doing to me? Was this a magic beyond human capabilities, something only a dragon could give? The peace found before death? What was this hunger for more that clawed along the inside of my skin that was building towards something I couldn't find words for? The closest I could compare it to was the kind gained from singing and dancing but far more intense.

His heads pulled back suddenly, like a startled feline, lips pulled back so that their exposed teeth gleamed. They rushed towards me before I could scream. I tensed for the expected feel of fangs on my neck or arms.

So the sudden pain as my bare feet hit the ground caught me off guard.

I tried to remain standing but my legs were weak from being strung up so long, I'd lost the strength, and maybe from whatever magic the dragon had cast. Perhaps he would kill me as I slept, the curtains of exhaustion already working to shut my eyes. I fell forward, however, I think he caught me before the rest of me fell. It gave me a fleeting feeling of hope. That if he cared enough to do that, then he might have reconsidered taking my life, but perhaps he only did it so his meat wouldn't be bruised. The questions loomed in my mind as to what was this creature's motivations for mentally torturing me. It made sense about everything I had heard in fairy tales were lies, and there was no prince or even a knight that would come to save me.

Either way, I was done here.

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**Disclaimer:** All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.


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